Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
Tex nodded. "Let it come," he said. "Everybody that deserves it will
have a slicker ag’in’ th’ rain. As marshal I’m playin’ no
favorites--there’s no strings to a city marshal. My job’s to keep th’
peace of Windsor, an’ let th’ devil whistle." He smiled enigmatically,
hitched up his belt, and then looked at Henry. "You know where Bud’s
belt an’ gun are?"
Henry nodded. "Baldy’s got ’em, behind th’ bar. Want ’em?"
"Yes," answered Tex, slowly turning. "When it starts rainin’, two guns
will keep me on an even keel. My left hand feels empty-like. Reckon
I’ll go git Bud’s outfit an’ have th’ harness-maker turn th’ holster so
it’ll set right for th’ left side; or mebby he’s got a cavalry sheath,
which won’t need so much changin’."
"But you ought to have a rifle heavier than a .38 short," suggested Gus
Williams. "That ain’t no gun for this country."
Tex smiled. "For town use that’s plenty heavy enough. But we won’t
argue about that because I ain’t got it no more. I swapped with that
section-boss, paying him fifteen dollars to-boot. To a thick Mick like
him there ain’t much difference between a .38 short and a .45-90. He
can’t use either one worth a cuss, anyhow. I’d say I was lucky
stumblin’ on him." He turned and walked toward the door, glanced up at
the cloudless sky, and chuckled. "No signs of rain, yet. Oh, well;
it’ll come when it gets here. _Adios_," and the slow steps of the
walking roan grew softer down the street.
The harness-maker looked from the belt and holster to an up-ended box
and waved at the latter. "Set down, Mr. Jones. ’Twon’t take a minute,
but you might as well set. Many a one I’ve turned. A new cut here, a
new strap, an’ a scallop out of th’ top on th’ other side so yore
fingers’ll close on th’ butt first thing. Let’s see th’ other. Yep;
deep cut down to th’ guard. Now, if I put it back on th’ belt at th’
same place, it’ll throw th’ buckle around back--all right, then. They
won’t match each other, but that don’t make no difference, I reckon.
Ain’t there been some talk of appointin’ you city marshal?"
Tex nodded. "This star was th’ only one they had," he explained.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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